Mistakes
by ofmakebelieve
Summary: "Let's dance." She stood up, and started walking over to him. "But Quinn... I can't dance." "Of course you can't" She replied. "Not without music."


**Mistakes**

**A/N: **Hey, so, here's the Quartie fic I've been talking about via twitter for _ages_. I hope ya'll like it, I worked really hard. :D

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Well, no duh, because if I did, something a little bit like _this_ would happen…

Quinn walked into the auditorium to find Artie, her current ballad partner, already there, up on the stage, strumming away on his guitar.

She tried to remain silent as she crept down the stairs, not wanting to disturb her fellow Glee club member. He looked so… _beautiful_, she noticed, sitting there, his eyes closed and his head down, listening to the melody, and humming along. He was like some sort of a prince. He was like _her_ prince.

She shook her head quickly.

_No. _No more boy drama. She already had enough, with Finn and Puck, she didn't need to bring someone else in there, even if he _was_ totally hot, and talented, and…

"Quinn?" Artie asked, looking up from the vibrating strings, into her eyes.

A cluster of butterflies flitted around in her stomach. Or maybe it was just the baby. She _hoped_ it was just the baby.

"Yeah, I just got here, I didn't want to, uh…"

"Interrupt?" He offered, setting his guitar down and rolling himself to the other side of the stage, the one closest to her. "It's fine; really, I was just waiting for you." He smiled, and Quinn felt her heart flip over in her chest.

_No, no, __**no**__. _

"Yeah. So, uh, should we get started?" She walked hastily up to join him.

"Sure. You have any idea what you want to sing?" He turned to face her.

"No." She laughed. "I've got enough going on in my life right now, I don't have time to think about things like assignments for _Glee club_."

"Oh. Right." He looked straight ahead, avoiding her eyes.

"Something wrong?" She asked, biting her lip and putting her hand on his, just for a moment.

"Well…" He said, looking at her. "This is the first time I've ever talked to you before. I didn't think you even knew I existed, and I was pretty sure that if you did, you thought that I was some sort of charity case. That's all that anybody ever thinks."

"Artie, I don't think that…" her voice was soft, but it was far from sincere. Most of the time, she forgot that Artie was there. He wasn't like a _real person_, just someone to make her grateful that she was healthy and that something like _that_ didn't happen to her. He was the person she said hi to in the hall because she just wanted somebody to know she was still better than them at something; that she could do something that he couldn't. As she walked by, she wanted him to wish he was her, even if it was only for a second, because he's the only one who ever would anymore.

Artie blinked back the tears that Quinn realized were forming and shook his head. "It's fine, Quinn. Maybe we should just get this over with…"

Quinn swallowed as she tried to find the words that she could squeeze around the lump forming in her throat. She didn't want to just _get this over with_. She wanted to spend time with him. She wanted to do something with someone who wasn't Finn, or Puck, or Brittany, or Santana.

She wanted to get away, even if she wasn't _really_ away.

"Okay." She finally managed, although it came out scratchy and rushed.

"So I've been thinking, and I'm pretty sure I want to do Hotel California by the Eagles." Artie said after a moment of awkward silence.

"Oh. I've never heard that song before." Quinn deadpanned.

Artie's jaw dropped. "Oh my damn. Are you serious?"

"Yes… What's wrong with that?"

"Quinn, Hotel California's a _classic_ rock song. It won the 1977 Grammy Award for Record of the Year and Rolling Stones named it the 49th best song of all time."

"No need to get defensive, but okay. So, what's it about?" She asked, sitting on the piano bench only feet away from him.

"Well, on the surface, it comes off as a song about a luxury resort where "you can check out any time you like, but you can't ever leave", but it's really an allegory about hedonism and self-destruction in the Southern California music industry of the late 1970s; it's about the dark underbelly of the American dream." He took a deep breath.

"How does that have anything to do with you and your life?" She said, after taking some time to digest what he'd told her.

"I don't know, just listen, and you'll understand." He said, picking up his guitar and beginning to strum.

"_On a dark desert high way, cool wind in my hair." _He sang softly, and Quinn melted.

_Oh, God, that voice… _

She watched as he continued.

"_Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim; I had to stop for the night." _He closed his eyes, and bobbed his head as his fingers flew across the heavy strings, each note piercing through Quinn's ears, and traveling down her spine, causing her to shiver lightly, yet uncontrollably at the same time.

"_There she stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell. And I was thinking to myself, this could be heaven or this could be hell. Then she lit up a candle, and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor, thought I heard them say…" _

Quinn tipped her head back and bit her lip, getting lost in the music. _How had she never noticed how good he was? _

"_Welcome to Hotel California, such a lovely place, such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the hotel California, any time of year, you can find it here." _He continued, gradually getting louder, sneaking glances at Quinn every few seconds.

"Wait." She said, and he stopped playing and looked at her.

"Yes?" He asked, frowning. _Had she thought he was doing a bad job?_

"Let's dance. I feel like dancing with you. To that song." She stood up, and started walking over to him.

"But, Quinn…" He said, his eyes following her as she came closer to him. "I can't dance."

"Of course you can't." She replied. "Not without music." And she picked up a CD that he had brought, karaoke for his song, and inserted it in the radio beside them, pressing the big gray button with the sideways triangle in the middle of it.

She swiveled her hips and spun around, as his eyes seemed to be glued on her, in awe.

"Well?" She asked, when he had not begun singing or dancing.

"Oh… Right… Sorry." He coughed. _"Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she's got the Mercedes Bends. She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends. How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget." _She grabbed his chair and twirled him around. _"So I called up the captain, please bring me my wine. He said we haven't had that spirit here since nineteen-sixty-nine. __And still those voices are calling from far away, wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say... Welcome to the Hotel California, such a lovely place, such a lovely face. They living it up at the Hotel California, what a nice surprise, bring your alibis." _

She smiled and leaned closer to him, a smile playing on her lips, as she began to sing along.

"_Mirrors on the ceiling, the pink champagne on ice. And she said we are all just prisoners here, of our own device. And in the master's chamber, they gathered for the feast. They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast. Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before. Relax, said the night man, we are programmed to receive, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!" _

Their voices faded away softly, and Quinn's lips were inches away from Artie's.

"Artie?" She said, and she appeared to be leaning in ever so slightly.

"Y-yes?" He said nervously, as a sweat began its way around his face.

"I've definitely heard that song before." She said as she quickly pulled away.

"You have?" He asked, looking at her, wiping his clammy palms on his pants.

"Yeah. And I think I get how it relates to you. You're trapped, because of your paralysis. You can leave, but you'll never _really_ be gone. I feel trapped too, Artie. I understand it, and I understand you. I'm never getting out of Lima now. I just wish I could break free. I wish I could… breakaway." She stopped talking and looked at Artie, who was obviously thinking what she was thinking.

They had found Quinn's song.

(**&%^$^%&**)

They stood before their Glee club members in the choir room, small, nervous smiles on their faces.

Quinn took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine." Artie promised.

Quinn gave him a quick grin as the music began to play.

"_Grew up in a small town, and when the rain would fall down, felt like no one could hear me." _This is where he joined her, so he took her hand and began to sing along. _"Dreaming of what could be, and if I'd end up happy; I would pray. Trying hard to reach out, but when I tried to speak out, felt like no one could hear me. Wanted to belong here, but something felt so wrong here, so I'd pray. I could breakaway." _They smiled at each other. This way going great, it was perfect. _"I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly, I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky and I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change and breakaway." _Quinn laughed slightly as Kurt and Mercedes mouthed the words and made hand gestures to go with the music. _"Out of the darkness and into the sun, but I won't forget all the ones that I love and I'll take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway." _

Their voices sounded beautiful together, they meshed well, and made a tune that topped every single performance of everyone in the room, much to Rachel's dismay.

"_Wanna feel the warm breeze, sleep under a palm tree, feel the rush of the ocean. Get onboard a fast train, travel on a jet plain, faraway, and breakaway. I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly, I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky and I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change and breakaway. Out of the darkness and into the sun, but I won't forget all the ones that I love I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway." _They were breathing heavily now, as Quinn twisted around Artie and his chair. _"Buildings with a hundred floors, swinging round revolving doors, maybe I don't know where they'll take me, but, I gotta keep moving on, moving on. Fly away, breakaway. I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly – though it's not easy to tell you goodbye and I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a chance, and breakaway. Out of the darkness and into the sun, but I won't forget the place I come from I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway, breakaway. Breakaway." _They finished the song as the bell rang, and the Glee club cheered. Quinn blushed as she realized that somehow, through their performance, she had ended up on Artie's lap.

One by one, their friends left, and they were the only ones remaining.

They stared deep into each other's eyes, their smiles wider than ever.

Finn came in, ruining the moment. "Quinn, you coming? I could walk you to class…"

"Just go," She breathed, not looking away from Artie. "I can walk there myself."

They just sat there, awkwardly, yet so… _perfectly_ for a few minutes, their eyes never leaving each other's faces.

Finally, after what seemed like an endless amount of time, Quinn leaned in and kissed Artie softly, sending butterflies through her stomach, and fireworks through her mind.

Artie was the first one to pull away. He took a deep breath. "Quinn, I think you're beautiful…" He started, looking at his lap, which she was still seated in. "And, I know you're having Finn's baby… Or maybe Puck's if Mercedes heard right, but I… I could be your guy. I would take care of you, and I would be good to you. I'd be better than they ever were, if you gave me the chance…"

As much as Quinn wanted to say yes, she just…couldn't. "Artie…" She got up, and kissed him on the forehead. "I don't think we should tell anybody about this." And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving the wheel-chair boy behind her.

It wasn't her first mistake by any means, but it would always be her worst.

**A/N: **I cannot write a happily ended fic anymore… I blame my depressing life… Review! Should I maybe possibly write more? O:

**-emaleelilac**


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